Faking It with the Forward: Wittmore U Hockey

After a full day of classes and practice, I’m fucking beat.

Axel is the only one that parties regularly, his body able to take a beating on the ice even with whatever toxins he decides to ingest. Some of mine is just habit. Those years of training with my dad were more than just workouts and practices. It was creating an entire mindset around success.

“What’s going on with you and the trainer?” Jeff asks, after deke’ing my player on the screen. We ate dinner in the athletic dining hall and came back to play a few rounds of video games before I needed to study.

“You saw the pic?”

“Everyone saw it, dude.” He winces as I slam his guy into the boards. “Or was that the point?”

Jeff knows me and I shouldn’t be surprised he’s suspicious of the photo of me and Twyler. “Shanna’s been sniffing around again.”

“Shit? For real?”

 All night I expected another text or some kind of response from Shanna. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she showed up at the Manor door. But that never comes and I’m relieved when it doesn’t happen. I have zero interest in dating Shanna again, but the simple fact she’s waiting around for the right opportunity to weasel her way back in? That’s enough to make me consider something extreme.

“What does that have to do with Twyler?”

“We were walking back to Shotgun when one of the texts came in. It was just a way to maybe shut Shanna down.”

In my peripheral I see him nod. “She was okay with that?”

I laugh. “It was her idea.” I manage to score, the light flashing behind the goal. I toss the controller on the coffee table. “Okay, I’ve got a paper to write.”

An hour later, I have half a paper written for my communications class, but there’s a restlessness gnawing at me. That’s what Shanna does to me. She worms her way into my brain, distracting me from my goals. I mean, that’s the real reason why we broke up. She wanted me to go pro this year, leaving my college degree behind. But I decided a long time ago that I wanted to graduate. A professional career has to wait until I get that diploma in my hand.

I refuse to make the same mistake my father did.

She doesn’t give a shit about that or what I want. Which is why she’s trying to reinsert herself in my life. She doesn’t want me. She wants the lifestyle.

I can’t let her fuck with me again, especially not in the preseason. Every practice, every workout is important. I know she hasn’t changed her mind about what she wants me to do, and I sure as fuck know I haven’t either. One thing stopped her in her tracks, for now at least: the photo with Twyler.

Tossing my laptop aside, I grab my phone and open the official team chat. Scrolling down until I find the right number, I type a message and press send.

OneFive: It worked.

The message is instantly read, but there’s a long pause before the small bubbles of a new message appear.

InternTwy: What worked?

OneFive: Shanna stopped texting me.

InternTwy: Oh, well good, I guess.

OneFive: But now my roommates are asking what’s up with us.

InternTwy: Tell them the truth. That you assaulted me. Again.

OneFive: I could just tell them the actual truth, that you were being a supportive friend and were happy to help me with my ex-girlfriend worries.

InternTwy: “Friend” feels like a stretch here.

OneFive: Ouch… although there’s something else we can do.

InternTwy: What do you want, Cain? 

Her impatience amuses me, and I can’t help but wonder what she’s doing right now. And, what she’s wearing. I smirk. I already know the answer. That ratty worn-out hoodie and shorts.

Shit, did my dick just twitch at the thought of peeling that hoodie off her body?

OneFive: I was thinking maybe we could tell them what we told her, that you’re my girlfriend.

InternTwy: ….

Lying in bed, I stare at the line of bubbles as they fluctuate, waiting for her response to come through. Except they vanish. Shit. I scared her off. Twenty-minutes later, when I know for certain she’s not going to reply, I video call her.

“Hey,” I sit up when her face appears on screen, “Don’t hang up.”

“I should,” she says warily, which is fair after what I proposed.

Her hair is back in a ponytail, but it’s messy, hair loose and curled around her face. At the bottom of the screen, I spot the top of that royal blue hoodie. Called that at least.

“Just hear me out, okay?”

“You have three minutes before my microwave popcorn is ready and the next episode of ‘I Survived a Cult’ starts.”

That answers the question about what she’s doing.

“You actually watch that garbage?”

The camera swings to the microwave where the timer is counting down: 2:43. “You’re wasting time.”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath, feeling a little dumb now that I’m facing her. “I’d like you to consider being my girlfriend.” She opens her mouth to argue and I continue, “Not a real girlfriend, but just… we can pretend for a while. Just until the season gets going. Shanna needs to understand this is over.”

“Thanks for the offer, Cain, but I’m a hard pass.”

“What?” Honestly, I’m reeling a little bit. “There are a dozen–no, two dozen–girls on campus that would be thrilled to get this offer. You didn’t even consider it!”

“Reese, even if I wanted to help you out, which I don’t, you made it perfectly clear today that I am super awkward around guys and I don’t see how that will help you.” Her eyes narrow. “I know you’re not this desperate.”

“Hey, you’re the one that sent out that photo. People are asking questions. Shanna thinks we’re dating. The only way she’s going to buy it is if we play along for a while.”

In the background I hear a buzzer going off. Shit, I’m running out of time.

“Seriously, Twyler. I need to get her off my back. She’s toxic and bad for my mental health.” I take a deep breath and confess something I’ve never told anyone, not even my parents. “When we were dating, she fucked with my head. There were some ultimatums, and she didn’t like my answer.” On screen Twyler watches me closely. “I just want the team to have a kick-ass season. I want to help them win it all and make up for screwing up last year.”

“You didn’t single-handedly lose that game, Reese.”

“Maybe not, but I was distracted and dealing with personal drama and wasn’t giving it my full attention. I vow not to do that again.”

“And you think getting into some fake dating scheme will provide less drama to your life?”

I laugh, but take one last shot. “Honestly, it could help you, too.”

I hear the microwave open and slam shut. She opens the bag and a gust of steam blows into her face. “Exactly how does this help me?”

“You said it yourself. People think you’re not into guys, but you are. There’s a misconception going around that you’re undateable. One that I may have inadvertently encouraged.” I give her an apologetic look. “Being seen with me will fix that.”

“No one would believe it.”

“Shanna did.”

And to be honest, when my lips met hers, I forgot all preconceived ideas that I had about her, too. That kiss, well, she may be awkward and inexperienced, but it sure as fuck didn’t feel like it.

She pauses, shoving her hand into the bag of popcorn. She’s thinking about it, I can tell. All I need to do is nudge her over the line. “Look, we both need something. I need to look like I’ve moved on. You need to look—in your words—dateable. It’s win-win.” I rest a hand behind my head and lean back on the headboard. My camera lands on my bare chest and I see her eyes dart down. Yeah, maybe this girl isn’t immune to me after all. “At the very least maybe you can gain a little confidence and become a little less awkward around guys.”

“Dammit.” Her hand comes to her forehead.

“Drop your popcorn?” I ask.

“No.” She sighs. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Don’t act like you’re being so put out.” I smile. “You’re getting to date the unbelievably hot captain of the hockey team, you know.”

“Don’t push me, Cain.”

“I’d stop,” I laugh, feeling another surge of relief, “but it’s just so much fun.”